The lonely Star called Hester
by Shaded Star
Summary: Hester grew up in a small town in the north of the United States. Like everybody else she knew the way she was going to die. She also already knew that she had way less time than her sister had. The fact that her sister should live without her frightened her so much that she doesn't really know how to deal with it.
1. Garden Gate

I've never actually wondered how I would die. I don't think anyone ever does here. We all already know. This is probably why it kinda frightened me that the man's gun was pointed right at my forehead. This wasn't the way I was supposed to die, none of us was going to die this way.

'Get in!' He whispered soft and rather sweet. He looked like that too. Young, perhaps begin twenty. I didn't think if it weren't for these times that he would have even pointed a gun at me.

'Get in to what?' I whispered back.

'The car of course.' I looked at him and realised he had quite a strange accent, not an accent I was used to.

'Where are you from?' I asked.

'That's none of you business. Now get in.'

Because the gun – that was still pointing at my forehead – was working a little on my nerves, I did what he teld me to do.

The car wasn't very big and had a dark, not very impressive colour. All cars looked like that. Apart from Stacy's, whose car had a bright red colour. She had painted it years ago, there were small yellow and pink flowers all over it. The only thing she didn't paint were the windows. Which actually surprised me when I saw the car first.

I had to sit in the back of the car. The man with the gun wasn't alone. There was an other man behind the steering wheel. I hadn't seen him before and I still couldn't see him very well. But he couldn't be way older than I was.

'Where to?' Was the only thing he said to the other man.

'Garden Gate Orphanage.'

At those words I shivered for awhile. They couldn't know that's were I was from, could they? I immediately feared for Stella. Young, dear, vulnerable Stella.


	2. Miss Leopold

Miss Leopold.

I started kicking and hitting the door and screaming at the top of my voice. I could heart the men walk away which only made me hit and kick harder.

'Let me out! Let me out!' I yelled, knowing that they couldn't hear me anymore. 'You filthy...!'

No words could describe what they were, what they had done to me and how much I hated them. In the car I had been kind of numbed. But all the pain and confusion kicked in right after the door had been closed.

After about ten minutes I realised that I was only hurting myself by kicking and beating the door. After all the door couldn't really help me being mistreated.

I looked around the room and looked at the furniture that was there. Nothing more than a small bed and a table with one chair. No windows, only a locked door.

I decided to sit down at the table and started ticking with my fingers on the wood it was made from. I got bored pretty fast and wanted nothing else than to leave. The urge to start banging on the door again was rather big, but I knew how to bring it down.

I frowned when I thought I heard a noise not made by me. I stood up and walked to the door. The only thing I could hear was a small clicking noise that was probably made a couple of feet away. It was as if someone was trying to open an other door.

I didn't know whether I should be happy that I wasn't the only one locked up here.

Suddenly the noise had stopped. I heard a couple of footsteps that were so soft they could never be from a man.

'Wait!' I yelled. Not realising that I did. 'Wait!' I slammed my hand on the door a couple of times.

On the other side of the door it was completely silent. Until I heard the same footsteps walking towards me. 'Who are you?' Her voice sounded vulnerable and very young. As if she hadn't even passed the ten yet.

'I'm Hester. Can you get me out, please?' I asked desperately. She had to get me out, I could never stay here. I didn't know what those men wanted of me, but it couldn't be much good.

I heard the noise I heard earlier – but closer – and took a step back. She was rescuing me. It wasn't until this moment that I thought of Stella again. I had to go look for her.

The door slammed open and first all I could see was the bright light that came from the hallway. I hadn't realised that it had been so dark in my small room.

In the door-opening stood a small girl. Her hair had more colours than I could count. Her eyes stood big and curious. Her clothes were dirty and messy, but made her look even more dangerous. In her hand she held a knife with which she had opened the door. She could never be over the twelve years old. But at the moment she probably looked more mature than I did.

'Are you still coming?' She turned around and started walking.

'Do you know were to go?' I asked while following her.

'No, but I'll find something.' She nodded her head in a way that reminded me a little of Stella.

'How?'

'Just follow.' She sighted annoyed and kept walking.

The hallway ended in a spinning staircase. If you looked down it was over four floors high. I didn't remember walking that far from the car. 'How did I get here?' I whispered not to anyone in particular.

'Let me guess.' The girl said. 'They forced you in to a car, drove you here, locked you up and that all without you resisting, because of the gun pointed at your head.'

'Well, yeah, but...' She started walking down the stairs ignoring me completely.

In silence I followed her, not really able to understand where I was or what I was doing here. Downstairs there was an even bigger hall, decorated with carpets, paintings and statues. 'Where are we?' I whispered quietly.

'All I know is that we have to get out.' She kept walking, just looking around when she passed doors.

'Isn't it quite strange that there are no people here? I mean there should be someone to look after us?'

'If I had known you were so annoying, I would have never gotten you out.' She murmured with anger. 'Will you please be silent? I'm trying to think.'

In the whole hallway there was just one curve that you could take. So we decided to take it, but just because we had to do _something_. Even before we turned we heard footsteps, but it was already to late to react or to hide.

'What are we doing here, girls?' A man that was about to heads taller than I stood in front of us with a lightly surprised face.

'Just walking.' I admired her courage. I would have never been able to say that without a trembling voice.

'Maybe you should walk back upstairs.'

'Not voluntary.' She said. The only thing I could do was standing there, my shaking hands behind my back and look how she did all the work. It wasn't quite fair, seen the fact that I was at least five years older than her. But I think she had about ten times the nerves I had.

She looked at him as if by that his head would suddenly explode. It didn't though. Before she – or I – could have expected it, he hit her in her face. She didn't fell on the floor, she didn't even show any sign of pain. In her eyes there was just pure hate for the man. She looked straight at him and didn't even blink.

'If not voluntary, by force, miss Leopold.'


End file.
